


Mousetraps & boo-boos

by 6Darkest6Angel6



Series: De-aged!Dean one-shots [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Crying Dean, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6Darkest6Angel6/pseuds/6Darkest6Angel6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Dean has a nice happy day, until he has an accident with a mousetrap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mousetraps & boo-boos

Sam woke up with a big smile on his face, and turned his head to the race car bed at the other side of the room to see Dean was already awake, and scribbling a picture in his new colouring book.

It had been a month since his brother had been turned into an adorable little three year old, and Sam loved looking after his brother and being a dad to the tiny boy.

"Hey little man. What are you colouring?" he asked, getting up to sit on the child's bed. He reached over and ran his fingers through the messy blond hair which was the same length as his own.

Dean grinned up at his big brother, and pointed at the picture. "Deanie cuwor cwown."

"Wow. That's the best clown picture I have ever seen," Sam told him, trying not to flinch at the clown's face peering up at him.

The little boy scrunched his shoulders up and giggled. "Sammy face happy now? It spotties."

"What are you talking about? I haven't got spots."

"Deanie gives dem back," Dean told him, holding one of his markers up.

Sam shot up from the bed and ran into the bathroom to check his face in the mirror. He gasped and his eyes went wide when he saw blue, purple, pink and green dots covering his face, making it look as though he had caught some kind of cartoon disease. "DEAN WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" he yelled to his brother, who came running into the bathroom with his bottom lip poking out and his eyes big and round, hugging his fluffy teddy bear to his chest, looking so adorable it was impossible for Sam to be mad at him. "What did you do this for?"

"Deanie gives spotties back wike my spotties," he told him, pointing at his own freckled face. "Sammy spotties wanned away... Deanie makes dem not."

Sam's expression softened and his heart melted. "Dean, I don't have freckles."

"I knows. Dat why I gives dem back," Dean tried to explain with all the innocence of a three year old. "I not sad and has spotties. You sad... and not has spotties. Deanie makes dem come back... den Sammy not sad no more."

"Come here you," laughed Sam, kneeling down with his arms held out. When the little boy ran over, he lifted him into his arms and kissed the toddler on the forehead. "Could you be more adorable?"

"Sammy not sad? YAAAAAAAAAY!" Dean giggled in delight, and threw his little arms around Sam's neck.

"I'll never be sad as long as I have you."

"Deanie woves Sammy."

"Sammy loves Deanie."

When the two Winchesters made it downstairs, Bobby turned around to greet them and his eyes went wide when he saw Sam. "What the hell happened to yer face?"

"Dean. Apparently my freckles ran away, so Dean decided to give them back."

"But ya don't have freckles, Sam," Bobby told him, a little lost at why Sam was sitting in his kitchen with multicoloured dots all over his face.

"I know, but try explaining that to Dean. According to him my face was sad yesterday because my freckles ran away, so he gave them back to make me happy again. He seems to think that since he's always happy and has freckles, that I must have them too... but they ran away and made me sad."

Bobby chuckled, and smiled down at the tiny Winchester. "Ya did a good job there. Want some milk to go with yer pancakes?"

"Yes pees, uncy Bow-bee," the little boy answered while Sam got him settled into his special chair at the table. He smiled happily up at the older man when he placed his SpongeBob cup of milk in-front of him on the table.

"What are we doing today?" asked Bobby, placing the plates of breakfast on the table.

"Dean's probably got his schedule full with watching cartoons and playing with his toys," Sam told him, smiling down at his brother.

Dean giggled as he shared his pancake with Chevy pie- his teddy bear who he named after two of his favourite things. "Yeah. Spoonbob Airpants, and Tomuss, and Bob da booder and Firemister Sammy."

"What do you want to be when you get big?"

"Me," Dean answered as if it was obvious.

"Of course you're still going to be you when you grow up, but I mean what job do you want to do?"

Dean bit his lip, and furrowed his eyebrows in an adorable way as he thought of what he wanted to do when he grew up. "Um... Guwaff."

Sam blinked and stared at his brother. "A Giraffe? Why?"

"Dey weally weally big, Sammy. And... um... Impy... and den fishy."

It was Bobby's turn to stare at Dean as he tried to hide his smile. "Ya wanna be a giraffe, the Impala, and then a fish?"

"Yeah. I be weally big... den I dwives, and den go swim. And Sheffy pie be biiiiiiig bear dat talk to Deanie."

Sam laughed, and ruffled Dean's hair. "I bet you'll be the best in the whole world."

*******

After lunch, Sam decided to take Dean shopping to get him some toys and clothes as a treat, so after getting him dressed, he told Dean to go find his boots while he finished getting ready upstairs.

Searching the hallway and living room, Dean managed to find one boot, but he couldn't find the other one. "Sheffy pie where Deanie shoe?" he asked his bear, who of course didn't answer him. "Oh no."

Dean remembered Sam spending the whole afternoon a few days ago teaching him how to dial 911 if he ever needed help, so he grabbed Sam's phone, and carefully dialled the numbers that his brother had taught him, and waited until someone answered. "Um… I wost my shoe."

"You lost your shoe? How old are you sweetie?"

"I Deanie, I twee. I gots gween eyes and spotties, and gots yewwow hair. I wike pie and ice ceem. Deanie sad. I wost my shoe."

The operator smiled, already in love with the tiny Winchester. She didn't have the heart to tell him that 911 was for real emergencies, but losing a shoe probably was an emergency to a child. "Where did you last have your shoe?"

"On feet," he said, making her laugh.

"Where did you take it off your feet?"

"Deanie see tarcoons. Bawney da dinysore sing and Deanie sing awell. Sammy say shoe off and I did. Den firemister Sammy go woo woo woo and hewp fire… My budder Sammy awell. He wights biiiiiiiiiig feet and biiiiiiiiig hair and when happy he got howes in face. Deanie woves Sammy."

"Where's your brother now?" she asked, smiling in amusement.

"Gets dwessed. He sad so Deanie gives him spotties to make happy. I gots car name Sheffy Impy. Impy bwack and pwetty and we's go wide. Sammy say I good and buy fingys fwom shoppy fingy. And my uncy Bow-bee make car not sad no more and he gwumpy."

"Have you checked under the couch, sweetie? That's where I always lose my shoes."

"Deanie wook." Dean put the phone down and knelt down to look under the couch, and his face lit up when he saw his little boot. He grabbed it and took the phone again. "I gots it. Fank you pwetty wady."

"You're welcome sweetie. Goodbye now."

"Bye bye." When Dean put the phone down, he looked up to see Sam coming into the room.

"Dean, who did you call?"

"Um… I wost my shoe and I hewp. You say fone when has hewp."

"Who did you call?" he repeated, picking up his phone to check the last dialled number. "911? What did you call the police for?"

"I wost shoe, Sammy."

"Dean, you don't call the police because you lost your shoe."

"Deanie sowwy, Sammy," he pouted, looking up at Sam with his big round puppy dog eyes.

"It's alright. Don't do it again. Let's get these boots on so we can go out."

**********

After spending a few hours shopping, the brothers were walking in the park, hand in hand as they ate their ice cream. Dean was giggling and skipping along, rambling about whatever happened in his cartoons that morning. He came to a stop when they came across a young woman sitting on a bench and rubbing her stomach while she spoke in a soft voice.

Dean looked around in confusion. "Who you talk to?"

"I'm talking to my baby, sweetheart."

"What baby?" asked Dean, managing to look even more confused.

"He's in here," she told him, patting her baby bump gently.

Dean gasped, his green eyes widening in horror. "You eats him? SAMMY! SHE EAT BABY!"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best not to laugh. "Dean, she didn't eat the baby."

"How baby in dere?" he asked, climbing up onto the bench to look at her more closely as if she was hiding the baby.

"Er..." Sam and the young woman blushed and looked at each other, silently asking what they were going to tell him.

After several minutes of awkward silence, the young woman answered, saving Sam from embarrassment. "The baby's daddy gave me a special seed and told me to swallow it, so it could grow inside me, because that's where mommies keep the baby until its ready to be born. It's like when you plant a seed until it grows up into a flower. But instead of putting it in the ground, we keep them safe in here until he's big enough to come out and I can look after him."

Dean nodded, and held out his ice cream. "Baby has ice ceem?"

"He doesn't eat ice cream yet, sweetheart," she told him with a smile, which got bigger when she felt the familiar movement at the side of her stomach. "Do you want to feel him say hello?"

When Dean nodded, she carefully took his hand and placed it on her stomach, and the two waited for it to happen again. He was beginning to get bored when he felt the thump against his palm, making him gasp and snatch his hand back as if it had been burned. "What dat?"

"It's my baby kicking."

"Sammy, baby kick me," said Dean with a sad expression, pointing at where the unborn baby was.

"It's the baby's way of saying hello because he can't speak yet. He only says hello to people he really likes, so you must be a really special little boy."

A delighted grin crossed Dean's face, and he reached over to place his hand on her stomach again. "Hiya baby. I Deanie." He kept his hand there for a few seconds, and was rewarded with the thump again, making him squeal in excitement. "Baby do again."

"I'm sorry about this. I'm Sam, this is my brother, Dean."

"It's alright. He's a little sweetheart. I'm Leah. It's nice to meet you both." Sam and Leah smiled at each other as the cute little boy made friends with a baby that hadn't been born yet.

"...I gots gween eyes and spotties on face. Deanie gots pwetty car dat Impy she go bwum bwum. I woves my teddy he Sheffy pie wike my Impy and pie. I woves dem. My's uncy name Bow-bee, he gots hat and haiwy face... wike bear," said Dean, giggling when the baby kicked again. "Yay."

"Is he always this talkative?"

"Yeah. He never seems to stop talking or smiling. He even talks in his sleep, the other night he was having a random conversation with a unicorn called Rupert. Well, he kept saying Oonacown, which sounds like unicorn to me, so..." Sam broke off with a blush covering his cheeks, but Leah just laughed.

"...Den Batman wans wif Wobin and go Batmobeew to go bwum bwum. SpoonBob Airpants funny, dis gween mistuh aways want mistuh Kwab buwger fingy and he nasty. Spoonbob twy make fends so he not big meanie and sing song," said Dean, before taking his hands away to start clapping and singing. "Fuh is fends do fings gever. Oooo is you and me. Nuh is um... Sammy what nuh?"

"N is for anywhere, and any time at all."

"Yeah. Dat. Down in da bwue sea. YAAAAAAY!" Dean cheered, placing his hands back over the bump. "Mistuh Cwab wikes money and Spoonbob bestest fend Patwick. Ooh ooh. Tomuss. Deanie wikes pussy..."

Leah raised her eyebrows and turned to look at Sam. "What did he say?"

"Percy. He likes Percy from Thomas."

"Okay then," she laughed, turning back to listen to Dean talking about his favourite cartoon characters. The one-sided conversation lasted ten minutes, and then he started talking about something else.

"Sammy buyed me wobot and chabanas to go bed. We go wide in awigaytor..."

"Dean, it's an elevator, not an alligator."

"Dat what Deanie say," said Dean, turning to look at Sam, before going back to talk some more. "Dat Sammy. He gots biiiiiiig hair and howes in face. He gots pooter dat he pway and wet me see vibeos on it."

"I haven't got holes in my face, they're dimples. Come on, have you finished your conversation yet? We need to go home... and I think Leah would like to go home too. I'm sorry we've kept you so long."

"It's fine. I've enjoyed spending my time with him, he's really entertaining."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I don't even have to watch TV with Dean around, he'll keep me entertained all day," he said, before turning to Dean. "Say goodbye to Leah and her baby."

"Bye bye baby." Dean leaned over to kiss the bump, and stood up on the bench to kiss the young woman's cheek. "Bye bye pwetty Weah."

"Bye sweetheart."

Dean giggled and jumped up into Sam's arms when he came closer to the bench, he threw his little arms around his neck and waved over Sam's shoulder as they walked away. "BYE BYE!"

***********

At dinnertime Dean ran into the kitchen, and skidded to a stop when he saw his big brother cutting something up with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh no," Dean exclaimed, dropping his teddy on the floor, and running over to hug Sam's legs. "What Sammy cwy?"

"Nothing little man. I'm cutting onions, they always do this."

Dean was scowling as he grabbed a chair to push against the counter. When he could reach, he picked up the onions in his hands and carefully climbed back off the chair.

Sam put the knife down, and watched Dean kidnap the onions. "What are you doing?"

Running over to the bin, Dean threw them away. "Dey makes you cwy Sammy. Dey nasty big meanies."

"You threw the onions away because they made me cry?" When Dean nodded, Sam knelt in-front of his brother. "Dean, I wasn't crying, they just make my eyes water."

"What dat mean? Dey puts water in eyes?"

Sam laughed, and wiped the tears. "No, it means they... er... when you cut them, they make your eyes hurt, so your eyes make tears to protect them from hurting."

"B-But dey nasty, Sammy. It nasty when make sad."

"I'll never cut onions again, okay?" said Sam, kissing his nose. "Go play with uncle Bobby while I finish the dinner."

"Owtay." Dean turned back to go in the room when something in the corner caught his eye and he walked over to it without Sam noticing. He frowned in confusion, wondering why there was some food on a weird piece of wood, and reached over to pick the food up to put in the bin.

SNAP!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Sam jumped in shock at the sudden high-pitched scream and dropped the plates he was holding as he span around to see Dean sitting on the floor, holding his hand to his chest, screaming and crying his eyes out. "DEAN!"

Bobby came running into the kitchen after hearing the horrifying scream. "What happened?" he asked Sam, who was kneeling on the floor, cradling a wailing Dean in his arms, trying to sooth him.

"It's alright baby. Shh. Let me have a look." Sam very carefully moved Dean's hand to have a look, and gasped in horror when he saw two fingers were caught in the powerful mousetrap. "Oh my god."

"Crap. Sam, I've gotta get his fingers out, make sure he doesn't watch," whispered Bobby, nodding to Sam to hide Dean's face against his chest and try to comfort him while he carefully released his fingers.

When Bobby removed Dean's injured fingers, the little boy screamed again. Bobby threw the mousetrap in the bin with a disgusted look on his face, before running over to the fridge to grab a few cubes of ice, and a clean tea-towel to wrap it up in. He had trapped his own finger when he was setting the trap up and it hurt like hell and he couldn't imagine the damage and pain it would cause to the three years olds tiny fragile little fingers. "Here," he said, running back over to give to Sam, who was trying to calm the still screaming Dean down.

"Thanks. Come on baby, here we go," said Sam in a soothing voice as he gently wrapped his fingers up. "Bobby go out and start the car, we've got to get him checked at the hospital."

"I'm on it." Bobby ran his fingers through Dean's hair comfortingly before he got up and ran into the room to find the keys to the Impala.

"Deanie g-gots boo-boo," Dean cried through his sobs, hiding his little red face against Sam's chest, his other hand gripping onto his big brother's shirt like a drowning man would grip onto a life preserver.

"I know. We're taking you to get it looked at," soothed Sam, quickly standing up to turn the oven off, before running into the living room with Dean cradled in his arms. To make sure he didn't get cold, he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, and wrapped Dean up, being careful to keep his injured hand elevated. "Let's go," he said, and ran out of the house, not bothering to turn the TV or light off. His brother was more important than everything else right now.

Bobby had already started the car and was waiting for them when Sam came running out of the house. He opened the front door, and sat down in the passenger seat with a distraught Dean in his arms. Usually when they went out, Sam secured Dean in his car seat and sat with him in the back, but this wasn't like any normal car ride.

"Boo-boo ouchie," he hiccuped through his tears, which were streaming down his little freckled face as Bobby drove them out of the yard and to the hospital. "Sammy ki-kiss boo-boo."

Sam smiled, and took the towel away for a second to gently press his lips against the injured fingers. "There we go. All better."

Dean shook his head, his bottom lip trembling as he burst into fresh tears, the loud wails echoing through the car, letting his pain and misery be known to those who loved him.

"It's alright buddy. I'm gonna get ya to the hospital soon, they'll make ya better."

"U-Uncy Bow-bee, gots boo-boo," he repeated, turning to look up at his uncle in the seat beside him with his big beautiful green eyes, which shined with his tears. "Kiss boo-boo."

"I can't, I'm driving," he told the injured child, who laid his head against Sam's chest and continued crying his little heart out. Instead of kissing his injured fingers, Bobby reached over and stroked his fingers gently down Dean's cheek with his free hand. "Shh. It's alright."

Sam could feel Dean's heart racing fast and frantic as the wings of a dying bird against his own chest. To try and calm him down, Sam began running his fingers through the soft hair and down his bright red cheek, whispering soothing and loving words to him throughout the whole trip to the hospital.

******

An hour later, the three of them were still waiting to be seen by a doctor. Dean's screams and cries of agony broke the hearts of everybody there until a nurse had come out to give him some painkillers to help him with his pain as he waited to be seen by a doctor.

Sam was hugging Dean close to him, stroking his hair and kissing his little face as the sobs wracked his tiny body. He was trying to help him through his pain by humming and singing Metallica songs to him in a soft voice until a doctor walked out, calling Dean's name. "Finally."

Sam stood up with his injured brother cradled in his arms, and carried him over to where the doctor was leading them. When the curtain was drawn, the young woman sat down in-front of them. "So this is Dean?"

"Yeah. He's hurt his fingers." Sam carefully unwrapped Dean's fingers, and gasped when he saw they were swollen to twice their normal size and bruised. "Oh my god."

"How did this happen honey?" she asked, very gently taking the small hand.

Dean's breathing hitched and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I-I sees food on fwoor and put bin and it bites me."

"The food bit you?"

"No. Fingy it on bites me. Deanie not knows why," he sobbed, getting upset again.

"It was on a mousetrap," Bobby explained, still feeling guilty over the accident. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have left the damn thing where he could see it."

"It's both our faults. We should've taught him about the dangers of mousetraps, since he's never seen one before."

"Alright. I'll try not to hurt you, okay honey?" As carefully as she could, the doctor examined Dean's fingers, but the little boy still gasped and cried out in pain. "Can you move them?"

Dean sniffled, and tried to move his fingers like the doctor told him to, but the pain got even worse, and he only managed to move them slightly. "OUCHIIIIIIIIIE!" he wailed, cuddling up to Sam again. "Boo-boo ouchie, Sammy."

"Shh. I know baby. You're going to be okay, I promise. Shh. Sammy's got you."

"I think we better get that x-rayed to see whether it's broken or not."

"B-B-Bwoked?" the little boy hiccuped, turning to look at the doctor. "You puts gwoo on it? Wike Sammy when aiwpwane bwoked?"

"No," said the doctor with a smile. "You don't glue broken bones, you only do that with toys. If it is broken, I'll put a special dressing on it that'll help make it better."

Dean sniffled again, and tried to smile back at her through his pain.

When the little boy was called in to get his x-ray, Sam stood up and carried him into the small room. Dean was scared and whimpering in fear and pain, as he clung onto Sam throughout the whole thing.

Sam sat with him, holding onto his good hand, as he sang to calm him down. He wiped Dean's tears with his thumb, and leaned down to kiss his wet cheeks, smiling when he saw Dean looking up at him. 

After the x-ray was over, the little family waited until they were called back in to see the doctor so she could tell them whether Dean had broken any bones.

"How are you feeling baby?" asked Sam, gently placing a kiss to Dean's fingers, before kissing his forehead. He looked at Bobby worriedly when Dean didn't answer, he just shrugged and hid his little face against Sam once again. "Shh. It's alright."

The doctor called them back, and confirmed that both of Dean's fingers were broken. Dean didn't seem to hear them, he was busy staring up at his x-ray with a fascinated expression.

"Deanie bone, Sammy. Uncy Bow-bee... Deanie bone. Wook."

"Is it yer bones? Wow. How many fingers have ya got?"

"Wun. Choo. Twee. Far. Fife." He looked up at Sam to see if he had it right. "Fife?"

"Yeah. That's right. Good boy," Sam praised with a proud smile. He had to hold onto Dean tightly when he started struggling as soon as he saw the doctor come closer with some items in her hands. "It's alright baby. She's going to help your fingers."

"Noooooo. Deanie scared," Dean cried through his fresh tears.

"Hey hey, look at me," said Sam, waiting until Dean did before pulling a funny face, crossing his eyes, and sticking out his tongue.

Dean started giggling, his little nose scrunching up adorably. "Funny."

Sam grinned when he finally made Dean laugh, and pulled another funny face while he gestured for the doctor to come closer.

Dean was so busy giggling at Sam and his silly expressions, he didn't seem to notice anything going on around him. By the time he turned around, his fingers had been splinted and his whole hand wrapped up in a bandage to keep both fingers still.

He blinked in confusion and looked up at Sam. "Sammy what do?"

"It's to help your fingers get better. You can't move them because it'll make them hurt again, so you have to keep this on for awhile."

The doctor smiled, and walked back over with some child's pain medication and a sling. "We've got your painkillers here for when it hurts again, and I'll need to keep your arm in this for a day or two," she said, holding up the sling. "We don't usually use slings for broken fingers, but since he's a child who has broken the two main fingers of his dominant hand, it'll be better and less painful if his hand is immobile so he's not tempted to use it."

After getting a nod from Sam, she carefully helped the little boy elevate his hand in the sling and tied it around his neck. "There we are. All nice and better. Oh wait. What's this?"

Dean looked up at her with a worried expression, but the worried look melted away and a grin lit up his face when she produced a lollipop from her pocket. "Deanie wowwipop?"

"Of course it is. All my very brave patients get a prize, and you were very brave."

"Fank you," said Dean with a giggle.

"Come on, let's get you home so we can have some Sammy snuggles, huh?"

"Yeah. Sammy nuggy," Dean agreed, lowering his head to Sam's shoulder.

********

When the little family arrived back at Bobby's, Sam immediately carried Dean over to the couch and laid him down, making sure he stayed covered in the blanket. He took his jacket off, and carefully laid it under Dean's head like a pillow, and knelt in-front of the couch.

"How's my brave little soldier feeling?" he asked, stroking his fingers through Dean's soft hair.

"Boo-boo ouchie. Sammy nuggy." Dean held his arm out so Sam leaned over to give him a special 'Sammy snuggle'. When they pulled away, Dean looked up at Sam with huge sad eyes and pouted lips. "Deanie need kooky make better."

"You need a cookie to make you better? I guess I better get you one then." After kissing Dean's forehead, Sam stood up and walked into the kitchen to get Dean what he asked for, and picked up the teddy that Dean had dropped earlier. A few minutes later, Sam came in with three cookies, a cup of milk and Chevy pie.

"Lets sit you up," said Sam, placing the milk and cookies on the coffee table, before very gently lifting Dean up so he could sit on the couch with him. After laying Dean back against his chest, Sam placed the teddy in the crook of Dean's arm, and put one of the cookies in Dean's left hand, and he kept hold of the milk so Dean could dunk his cookie into it. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungy," Dean whispered through his mouthful of cookie, before giving some to his teddy. "Dere go. Woves you Sheffy pie." He smiled at Bobby when he came into the room, and held his cookie up like a prize. "Wook uncy Bow-bee."

Bobby walked over, and ruffled Dean's hair on his way to sit in his chair. "Is that nice, buddy?"

"Yeah. Deanie puts miwk, wook," he said, dunking it into his milk, and taking another bite.

Bobby smiled, and started flicking through the channels to find something to cheer Dean up. He came to a stop when he saw Ace Ventura: Pet detective had just started, and put the remote down. If anything would make the little boy laugh again, it would be the silly antics of Jim Carrey as the pet detective.

Soon the living room was filled with laughter as the tiny toddler enjoyed the funny moments of Ace Ventura. He laughed so much that his fingers started hurting again, the pain exploded in his fingers and radiated up into his arm, making it feel as if his arm was engulfed in a ball of fire.

Sam jumped when Dean suddenly started screaming in pain against his chest. "Bobby, get Dean's medication out of his bag. Shh. It's alright baby, Sammy's here. I've got you. Shh."

"S-Sammy, boo-boo ouchie. Gives kiss," he begged, holding his hand out as high as he could, so his big brother could give him a special kiss.

Laying a gentle kiss to the bandaged hand, Sam smiled and peppered kisses all over the freckles dotting the beloved face of his little brother. "There we go. All better kisses." He took the offered bag from Bobby, and helped his brother take the medication that would hopefully kill his pain.

"D-Deanie has ice ceem? Make b-better," Dean hiccuped through his sobs, looking up at Sam through his big watery green eyes.

Sam smiled. "Of course you can." He was about to stand up when Bobby got up to walk into the kitchen to get the injured little boy his ice cream.

"There ya go, buddy," he said, giving the bowl to Sam so he could help him eat it.

"Here we go. The Winchester express is due for take-off," said Sam, flying the spoon around, and making aeroplane noises, which made Dean giggle as he leaned forward with his mouth open. "Is that nice?" he asked, lowering his head to kiss Dean's forehead. When Dean nodded, Sam helped him eat another mouthful, then kissed his nose. "I love you."

"Woves you," Dean mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream, before turning back to the movie. After every spoonful of the chocolate ice cream, he got another kiss on the forehead or his nose, making him smile even through his pain.

Instead of watching the movie, Bobby was watching Sam look after his brother. He was surprised that Sam had taken so well to the role of big brother/dad since he had never really been around kids since he was one himself, it was usually Dean who dealt with the kids they met during a hunt, but this past month and today especially Sam had been a natural with Dean, and was great at taking care of him. Bobby smiled, it was nice to see Dean being taken care of for once, his whole life had been about taking care of everyone else, so it was nice to see the roles reversed for a change.

"Mistuh funny, Sammy," giggled Dean, pointing at the screen where Jim Carrey was wearing a pink tu-tu and pretending to be crazy.

Sam smiled down at his brother. "Yeah, he is."

****

When Ace Ventura finished, Sam shifted to lay across the couch with Dean laying against his chest. "Why don't you try and get some sleep. I bet you're exhausted with the day you've had."

Dean sniffled, and whimpered in pain as he curled up on his big brothers chest, being careful of his injured hand. He hugged his teddy in his arms, and closed his eyes. "Deanie sweepy and Sheffy pie sweepy. Sammy sing."

After adjusting the blanket to keep Dean warm, Sam started running his fingers through the toddler's hair, as he sang Dean's special lullaby. "Hush, my little Deanie, it's time to go to bed. So lay down, close your eyes and rest your sleepy head. The sun is down, the moon is up, and the stars are in the skies. So it's time for my little man to close his big green eyes. As you sleep the night away, I'll keep you safe and warm. I'll hold you tight all through the night and keep you safe from harm. Angels are watching over you all through the night. To look after you and protect you until the morning light."

When Sam finished, he looked down and smiled when he saw his little brother was snuggled up asleep in his arms. "Sweet dreams, little man."

*The end*


End file.
